America Owes Me A Living
by IBecameAsMadAsRabbits
Summary: This is the best I could do, blame my sister for making me have a mental breakdown in a pharmacy.
1. Prolouge

Okay. Sometimes I really hate this country. First off, there was the Great War a few decades ago, but I'm not old enough to have gone through it. I'm only 17. Then Wall Street just HAD to crash and ruin everyone's lives and we went through a huge depression. NOW, Hitler's being a power hog, invading countries and whatnot. Then that Mussolini man joined him. Apparently, a country that looks like a boot wasn't enough for him…

Suddenly, Japan decides they don't like us and bomb Pearl Harbor…I still remember that day. Mostly because it was yesterday. Everyone in the boarding house ate breakfast silently after we saw the headline in the _Santa Martina Times. _

**JAPS BOMB PEARL HARBOR NAVAL BASE**

There's usually so much talk and jabber what with there being ten people in this house…not including my dad. And, during the Depression, people were evicted from their homes. When I say 'evicted', I mean, the bank was being an ass and kicked people out of their homes. Me and my dad got evicted. But so did Casey and his dad.

So Marissa's family turned their home into a boarding house. They had to be really tight on cash to have people pay them money to live in their house. I'm just happy that we all have a place to live instead of living in shelters and going to soup kitchens.

Anyway, breakfast was scary quiet. All you could hear were the clinking of spoons and bowls. I knew they weren't talking about IT for my sake. Mrs. McKenze made oatmeal with slices of peaches on top. There was a plate stacked with buttered toast in the middle of the table. No one has mercy on me when it comes to buttered toast. When the flurry of hands disappeared there was nothing left. Oh poo…

We all ate silently. Casey kept glancing at me. He was right next to me every breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I saw him wrap something up in a napkin under the table. But then it was time for school. Lovely. We're attacked and we have to go school? I swear to you, they'll make us go to school when the world comes to an end.

Marissa had dropped outta school during the Depression to help her mom out with the housework. So me and Casey always walk to school together. I really love that about him. Especially that he doesn't ditch me for one of those rich girls with a car.

As we were walking, he handed me whatever he had wrapped into the napkin.

Three pieces of toast.

…

They let us out of school early. Apparently, there's some big speech from Roosevelt about whether or not America will be joining the war. Oh joy, because I'd really love to send out young and old civilians to go die in the hands of evil Germans and Japanese dictators.

Casey walked me home. I deliberately walked slower. I think I was hoping to miss the radio broadcast. When Casey realized that he was three feet ahead of me, he sighed and said, "You can't avoid this, Sammy. It's going to happen. You know this."

He doesn't know what he's talking about. I can avoid it as long as I like. But he's practically dragging home by my arm.

When we get there, everyone is crowded around that big ass radio. Oops. I forgot. It's not lady-like to curse. That's bull and Casey knows it. He lets me curse when we're alone. When Teddy starts talking, I already wish he'd shut up. No offense. I have great respect for the man who helped us out during the Depression, but I just can't take it.

The speech wasn't long. He was just stating what Japan did to us, as if we already didn't know. And then he declared war.

If my dad comes back, he'll probably enlist to go fight. He'll leave me here. All alone. By myself. With no one else to care about me.

Of course, if he's already dead, I'm already alone. He promised me he would come back. He promised he'd be safe.

He was down in what used to be in Pearl Harbor. He was the captain of the _Arizona. _The _Arizona_ sunk. But he could've survived. A lot of them had survived. They swam to safety. But my dad can't swim.

Everyone told Mrs. MacKenze not to bother with dinner. I retreated to my room in the attic while everyone stayed downstairs to escape the horror of our predicament. They were listening to a new radio show episode of _Suspense. _I could the low-voice announcer ominously building up the suspense.

"Suspense, suspense, SUSPENSE!" I loved the way he built up the eerie music. The new show was called _The Devil In The Summerhouse _. Normally, I'd be glued to the radio, paying no attention to my surroundings. I act like I don't hear the two gossipy nurses behind me saying stuff about me because they think I'm absorbed in the show.

Casey thinks I don't know what goes on around me, which is why he always sits next to me and wraps his arm around me and rests his head on my shoulder. He stays there for the entire half hour of the show.

But I need to be alone now.

Everything in my room is wooden. Its sorta like a Robin Hood treehouse. I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Thunder roared and rain just falls from the sky. Some rain falls through a crack in the ceiling and starts dripping on my face. Well, that'll be annoying tonight.

On any other day, right about now, me and Casey should be running to get home. Trying not to get wet. The last time it was raining and we were scrambling to get home, Casey let me wear his coat. I love his coat. It's leather and so worn out. It has his scent on it.

My eyes roam the room. They land on the bookshelf my dad built for me. I don't have a lot of books. I have a few _Anne of Green Gables _books. I love Anne's fiery temper. And there's also _The Adventures and Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes. _ Of course, I have _Robin Hood. _And then there's the books that my dad gave me before he left for Pearl Harbor. _Nancy Drew. _

If my dad is gone, me Robin, Sherlock, Anne, and Nancy are all alone. How pathetic.

"You're never alone, Sammy."

Casey climbs up through the trapdoor.

I scowled. "Whatever happened to knocking?"

"It died out with peace and harmony," he replied with no humor in his voice. "Why so crabby?"

I didn't answer. He walked across the creaking floor and sat next to me. I was still lying down so he grabbed my arm and pulled me up. A drop of water fell from the ceiling onto him. He looked up. "I'll have to fix that."

"You don't have to fix anything, Casey."

"You'll never be alone, Sammy. I swear. I'll make sure of that."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Casey."

He responded fiercely, "I intend to keep this promise."

"We'll see."

" I WILL. Now come downstairs. Kitty is about to die in the electric chair."

**A/N: Umm okay, this is just the prologue. The next chapter will take place a few months later. And you know something, I'm kinda pissed.** **NOBODY is updating. PLUS, I typed four pages on Word for my last story and when I saw it on FF, I was super pissed at how short it looked. I sicken myself. This story sickens me too. School sickens me. **

**Umm…what else?...Oh, so this takes place during World War II (I hope you already figured that out…) This is like my favorite war EVER. EVERRR. So don't diss my war. Diss the story, not the war. Heeey. I'm graduating on Friday. Wish me luck cuz I just might trip :) Review if you read this because if you don't JIMMY WILL COME AFTER YOU AND MAKE YOU PAY CHILD SUPPORT. Review if you wanna know what the hell I'm talking about.**


	2. A Broken Promise

_**April 1943**_

Be optimistic. That's what Shirley Temple sang when she was younger. Optimism is for suckers…What did optimism ever do for me?

My dad came back. He jumped off the _Arizona _and one of his friends pulled him to shore. He stayed at the house for two weeks. And then he left me.

There's a blue star on a white flag hung on my window. This basically means that someone in my family is fighting in this cursed war. He told me that he'd write. But that was three months ago. He left in January and now it's April. Casey's dad left to fight with him.

But Warren came back two weeks later…in a casket. They stuck a new soldier, who was a father no less, in Germany. There was a raid and he was gone in an instant.

Casey's a good actor, but no one can hide pain like that. He hasn't shown any emotion about his father since he first heard about it.

We were in his room, joking about this new comic book superhero. I'm not really into comics, but there's a reason that me and Casey rummaged through our pockets to put together ten cents to buy this comic.

It's a new superhero from Marvel. His name is Captain America. The cover was of Captain punching Adolf Hitler in the face. These comic book writers really know how to sell their work.

Me and Casey were on his bed when Marissa's mom walked in. "Telegram for you, Casey." Her eyes were sorrowful. She knew what an official looking government paper meant. She had lost a brother during the Great War.

Casey was still laughing when he opened the telegram. Then he read it.

One second, he was reading it. The next, his face was buried in my neck and his arms were wrapped tightly around my shoulders.

He cried. He'll never admit it, but he cried.

My dad has been sending money to pay for my rent, but he hasn't written. But he knew what happened to Warren and he started sending money to pay for Casey's rent. But he hasn't written. And of course, he knew what happened to Warren because he was with him when it happened.

The next day, when me and Casey found that out, I expected him to be upset that my dad survived and his didn't. But he didn't yell or anything. He wouldn't. He didn't lose his head or ANYTHING. Instead, he said, "I expected your dad to survive whatever was thrown at him. He'll come back when the war is over. He's a Keyes's. And the Keyes' are survivors."

This war will be the death of me…huh. Ironic. I'm sorry, but I can't take it. FOOD RATIONING? Yes, I know our soldiers need food too, but we had enough when they were HERE.

The city gave everyone books where to hold our ration stamps in them. So we have to pay for some specific food and a STAMP to get it. And when we run out of stamps, no more of that specific food for us. Cheap bastards.

But the guy who works the counter at the corner store will give us a free stamp for every pound of chicken fat we bring in for our troops.

And then our wonderful President suggested that we grow our own food instead of buying it canned. Because our troops need the metal. Thanks, Teddy.

So Mrs. McKenze gave everyone in the house their own space in the yard to grow their own Victory Garden. Me and Casey are sharing our garden. There's not that much space in the yard for everyone.

Me and Casey are working in the garden now.

"Pull harder, Sammy." He laughs at my pathetic attempt to pull at a stubborn weed.

My knees dig into the ground through the blanket that Casey digs out so I don't get my skirt or my knees dirty. It's such a sweet gesture that I don't bother telling him that I don't mind what happens to my skirt, I have to wash it later anyway.

"I'm _trying._ It doesn't want to come out. It wants to grow larger so it can suck all the nutrients and water from these stupid vegetables."

He smirks.

"Don't give me that look! How could you be so mean and give a poor, helpless girl such a hard job that requires strength?"

He gives me this look. He knows what I'm capable of.

"Casey!" A voice just pops up. He turns around toward the voice. "How could you? You can't be so cruel to her. Be a man and pull out those pesky weeds."

It was one of the men who lived in the house. It was Jeffree S. Tar. He's kinda still living in the days where women couldn't vote…but the important thing is that he totally creeps Casey out.

Casey looks down and mutters, "Of course. Let me get that for you, Sammy." He reaches over on my side and tugs on the weed.

And while he's having it out with the rejected plant, Jeffree goes, "And her name is Samantha. Have some respect for the young lady." Then he walks off to go insult some other guy.

Casey mutters, "Young lady, my ass."

I shove him. "Be a man."

He ignores me. "Damn, this weed is tough." He stands up a little and shifts his weight toward the back to put his weight on the stubborn grass. After a few seconds, he falls on his backside with the weed in his hand.

I'll say it now, the weed was puny. He stared at it. "THIS was making me go crazy?"

"Hmm, "I joke, "Maybe we should start more vegetables. The wittle boy needs his strength."

He gives me a look that says that I'm in major trouble. He tackles me to the ground. He doesn't do anything, he just holds me there. I look up into his eyes. I'm crazy about this boy. He's the only one who hasn't left me. He hasn't broken his promise, he's still here.

I reach up and brush the hair that's hanging over his face away from his eyes. There's something unnerving about them today. They're…worried, guarded…

But he soon wipes it from his face and smiles. But it's a nervous smile. "Let's go get a soda, Sammy."

It was such a beautiful day today. The sun was out, the birds were singing, good God, I sound like Snow White.

(FUCK, THAT LAST TIME, FF CUT OFF MY DIVIDING LINE WHICH WAS MADE OF WORDS ALL PUT TOGETHER SO IMMA TRY THIS ONE MORE TIME (DIVIDING LINE))

Me and Casey were sitting at the counter on the swivel stools.

"Two ice cream sodas, Pop." Casey told the guy at the counter. Pop is really old, but he really knows how to make a good ice cream soda.

While he was scooping the ice cream in, Casey turned to me and smiled. He took hold of my chair and spun it around.

"Caseeey! Don't…"

He smiled when I came to a stop. "That's for leaving me out to dry with Jeffree."

I didn't answer. I was too dizzy. "Ugghh, Casey. Now I see four of you."

"Well, three more handsome faces aren't too bad." He says smirking.

"Yeah, well three more cocky guys aren't too pleasant."

He gave a nervous laugh. "Um, Sammy, I need to tell you something."

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Uh…Oh, here's the sodas. Just drink first."

I took a sip of my soda. He started to talk.

"Sammy, you know how we all need to do our part to win this war. I don't think that just by not buying metal cans, we'll do this."

"Well, what else can we do, Casey? You know I want to have this war done. Everyone does." What was he getting to?

"I want to do more for my country, Sammy. That's why… I went to go enlist to fight."

I hate him. Ihatehimhatehimhatehim. I jumped out of my seat and ran.

"Sammy!"

I didn't look back, didn't slow down. I just kept running. But then my lungs started to hurt. I found that I didn't care. That pain didn't matter to me.

But I needed to slow down. I needed to stop. He couldn't possibly be behind me, anyway. I stopped at the park. No one really goes there except to dance. There are dancing contests. The band plays and everyone dances on the concrete floor. The band plays in the little pavilion in the middle of the dancing area. I sat down on the steps.

"Sammy, please listen to me."

I looked up. His hair was disheveled, but he still managed to look incredibly adorable. "How far do I have to go so that you don't follow me?" I stood up to run some more, but he grabbed my arm and dragged me back down on the steps. He sat next to me and kept his arm around me.

"Let GO." I swear, there was murder in my voice.

"Why are you so upset about me going to fight?"

I couldn't help it…I broke down. Crying. I acted like one of those pathetic girls who cry when they see those guys leaving town to get to a war camp.

"Sammy, please don't cry." He begged me.

I whispered through my tears, "You promised me."

"What? What did I promise?" He sounded confused.

"You said you'd never leave me to be all alone. You're going off to fight a stupid war and you're leaving me here by myself."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "You have Marissa, Dot, and Holly. You'll never be alone."

I looked into his eyes. Mine were probably red and puffy. I hoped it made him feel like crap. "You said that _you'd _never leave me to be by myself. Now you're leaving. Isn't it enough that I don't know what's gonna happen to my dad? Isn't it enough that I wake up in the middle of the night with nightmares that Hitler caught up to my dad to torture him personally? For all I know, he could already be dead, lying on the ground. Now I have to worry about you."

He looked away. "Who said you have to worry about me, Sammy? I can take care of myself."

I retorted, "I bet that's what every single man lying dead said to their family and friends."

"They knew the consequences, Sammy. So do I." He sounded mad now. GOOD.

"So what? You were lying when you said that you could take care of yourself?"

"NO, I-Sammy please. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"Well why does it have to be this way?"

He responded fiercely, "Because I owe a debt to my country…and my dad."

Now I shut up.

And I'm sad to say it, but I left. I just got up and left. It's not like he followed me, so that kinda hurt. But I guess I deserved it. I mean, I really did give him a hard time over this war thing. But I feel betrayed. He _promised _me. Maybe I'm being selfish, but is it so bad to want him to stay?

ANOTHER FREAKING DIVIDING LINE, LETS SEE IF IT WORKS…PROBABLY NOT, FF HATES ME. SAD FACE….

"YOU NEVER SHOULD HAVE COME HERE. YOU CANNOT STOP ME. NOW YOU MUST PAY. I won't kill you…yet. But you'll be my prisoner. You will suffer until you die. Maybe if you ever get out, you'll listen to Sammy. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Hitler orders his men to put Casey in their truck and takes him to Auschwitz.

I sat up screaming. I didn't worry about waking the other boarders, the attic was practically soundproof. When I realized it was just a dream, like every other night, I screamed again.

Casey was sitting on the edge of my bed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm _fine._ What are you doing here?" When I got home this afternoon, I just went right to bed and pulled my desk over the trapdoor. I didn't want to talk to anyone. But before I went to bed, Marissa said I should take it off because if there's a fire, I won't be able to get out…hmm, there's an idea.

"I wanted to talk. And this afternoon, you mentioned something about nightmares. Can we talk, Sammy? I want to straighten this out before I go."

I lie back down in bed and bury my face in the pillow. "Don't you have another week here? We can talk in the morning, Casey."

"Sammy, I-I'm leaving in the morning."

I sprang up like a jack-in-the-box. "What? Don't you get a week here?"

He hesitated. "Yes…I enlisted last week."

"Last…week." I sounded dead. "You joined last week and you just told me you're leaving. Well, I'm glad to know you _care _about me." My voice was oozing sarcasm.

"I DO care, Sammy. You know that. You _know _that."

"I'm so sure."

He was quiet for a moment. "I have to leave in three hours, Sammy. It's 2:05 in the morning."

"Not soon enough for you, Casey?" I scowled.

He looked at me sadly. "Happy birthday, Sammy." He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek softly. And then he left.

I am such an ass. I cannot believe I was so mean to him and he's still sweet. Something red caught my eye…I picked it up. A red box. I'd assume that it's Casey's, but it says my name on it. So I open it. And what's inside makes me feel like Hitler.

It's a locket. A _golden _locket. A _heart-shaped _locket.

It opens so I could put a picture of something inside. I got off my bed and crawled under my bed to grab my scissors and a box of photos.

BWAHAHAA DIVIDING LINE AGAIN WHASSUPPP FOOLSSSSS HAHA JK ILY

"Wait! Casey, don't go yet." He was about to walk out the door. I would've talked to him sooner, but I felt too stubborn to admit how mean I was.

He turned around and looked at me, confused. "Are you still mad?"

I twiddled my thumbs. "I dunno. I don't want to be mad, Casey. I'm just really really sad. But I don't want you to leave mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, Sammy." His eyes fell on the locket I was wearing around my neck. He smiled. He stepped closer to me. I had to look up at him. "Do you like it, Sammy?"

I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his chest. I didn't need him to see me cry more. Once was more than enough, thank you very much. "Yes. I love it. I always have you with me, now."

"What do you mean?" He ran his fingers through my hair.

I opened it and showed it to him. I had cut out a picture of him and put it in my locket. "You better come back, Casey. Or I'll kill Hitler myself."

He laughed. "I'll come back, Sammy. I promised, remember?"

"You better write to me, Casey. Don't promise to write and then not write to me."

He whispered, "I promise."

**A/N: I'm done with this chapter. FINALY. I get sooo sidetracked. I wrote two chapters of See You Again and I haven't given that story a second thought. NOW I'm writing a new one :) Just cuz I feel like it. I like this one more. Imma call it Salt. Cuz the movie Salt inspired me. That movie was epic. **

**I'm graduating tomorrow, yaaaaay! Then my sister's birthday party, me and my brother's graduation party into one party will be on Saturday. I'm only going cuz I'm hoping there'll be presents and money and an iPhone. And if there isn't one, I'm gonna be real pissed. **

**Y'know, it's funny…no one asked about Jimmy. He must be so unloved. Review or I'll be super sad. **

**Oh and Jeffree S. Tar. Who knows where I got that name from? Come onnn. I know SOMEONE knows…**


	3. Sleepy Lagoon

"I want to kill him," I groaned into my pillow. "Gah! Asshole!"

"Sammy, calm down. Maybe he's just been too busy to write. You know he would write to you every chance he got," Marissa reassured.

"But it's been four months since he left though. And I've only gotten one letter. After that, nothing." I sat up from my bed and threw my pillow across the room, scowling.

"Maybe they got lost on the way across the sea?"

"He wrote to Tammy," I whispered.

"What?" she screeched. "What do you mean he wrote to Tammy?_ Tammy_? Who lives here? In this house? I'm gonna kill him! Erghh! He's gonna wish Hitler makes him a prisoner of war!"

I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling before closing my eyes tightly, feeling tears prick at my eyelids. I will not cry.

"How do you know he's written to Tammy?" Marissa asked skeptically.

"I dunno, maybe it's the giddy shriek of _'Eeeek, another letter from Casey! Awhhh he's such a sweetheart!_' that I hear every week when we get the post. And she shoves the bloody letter in my face long enough to see his handwriting."

"Do you want me to kill him for you?"

"Yes please," I muttered bitterly. I ran a hand through my hair and let out a sigh. Boys are stupid. Especially Casey. No matter how much I love him. But you didn't hear that from me.

Marissa looked at me sympathetically and asked, "Wanna come listen to the radio with us?_ Suspense_ is on…"

I sighed. "I don't believe I'm in the mood for _Suspense_…which episode is it?"

"_The Diary of Sophronia Winters_."

I waved it off and said, "Naw, I heard that one a million times. I think I'll just stay up here to wallow in my nice little puddle of self-pity."

"Shut up, Sammy. You're coming to listen to the radio with the rest of us. I am determined to cease your moping." And with that, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the trap door, practically pushing me down the ladder.

"Noooooo," I whined.

"Get. Over. Him," she grunted, dragging me harder and harder until we reached the sitting room.

"But my pity party!" I exclaimed.

She shoved me so that I was sprawled all over the carpet, with my skirt riding up. On the recliner was Danny and when he saw me lying down on the carpet, he whistled. "Damn, Casey has something lovely to come home to, don't he?"

I scowled and pulled my skirt down. Pervert.

When Casey went to war, Mrs. McKenze rented out his room to Danny. She said that when he comes home permanently, she'll kick Danny out. Of course, one of the wonderfully pessimistic nurses commented, "If he comes back anyway."

Marissa ignored him and went to go turn on the large radio that the McKenze's had inherited from some long lost cousin or something.

I rubbed my aching temples and pretended to be engrossed in what the announcer, The Man in Black, was saying about what today's story was about.

_"Suspense! This is The Man in Black, here again to introduce Columbia's program, Suspense. Our stars tonight are Miss Agnes Moorehead and Mr. Ray Collins. You've seen these two expert and resourceful players in "Citizen Kane" - "The Magnificent Ambersons" in which Miss Moorehead's performance won her the 1942 Film Critics' Award. Mr. Collins will soon be seen in the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Technicolor film, "Salute to the Marines." Miss Moorehead and Mr. Collins return this evening to their first love, the CBS microphone, to appear in a study in terror by Lucille Fletcher called "The Diary of Sophronia Winters." The story told by this diary is tonight's tale of... suspense. If you've been with us on these Tuesday nights, you will know that Suspense is compounded of mystery and suspicion and dangerous adventure. In this series are tales calculated to intrigue you, to stir your nerves, to offer you a precarious situation and then withhold the solution... until the last possible moment. And so it is with "The Diary of Sophronia Winters" and the performances of Agnes Moorehead and Ray Collins, we again hope to keep you in...suspense! Suspense! SUSPENSE!"_

Ah yes. You can never go wrong with Agnes Moorhead. Of course, just when I was really getting into the drama, Tammy's voice penetrates the suspenseful atmosphere that the Man in Black tried very hard to create. "Casey wrote to me again!"

"Shut up!" I snapped.

"Samantha!" Mrs. McKenze scolded. "Be polite to your housemate. We are a family here."

Tammy gave her a sickly sweet smile. "It's alright, ma'am. She's just upset that Casey has been writing love letters to me and she hasn't heard a word from him."

Now Mrs. McKenze looked confused. "Casey Acosta has been writing you love letters? Oh no. Sweetheart, I think I mixed up the mail a while ago. Casey's been writing those letters to Sammy. I must've put them in your mail basket by mistake."

My day has been made.

Tammy looked devastated and I can't say that I felt an ounce of pity for her. I plucked the letter from Casey out of her hands and said, "Thankyouverymuch. You can bring up the other letters today as well."

A victory has been won. If only the war was this easy. I practically skipped back to my room in the attic. So he hadn't forgotten me. But he probably thought that I was ignoring him. And yet he continued writing.

It still doesn't make up for him leaving, but it's a start. I flung myself onto my bed and opened the battered envelope to find a ratty sheet of paper with spindly handwriting filling the page. Maybe it sounds stupid, but it smelled like Casey. That familiar, musky scent is what made me want to bury my face into my pillow and cry.

But I didn't.

Instead, I began to read his letter.

**-Sammy**

**Please don't be mad at me. Please? I'm going crazy over here, knowing that you're still upset about me leaving. Why can't you understand that I need to do this?**

**And it's not like it's permanent. I'll come home and you can punch me for leaving while we listen to Suspense and you let me lean on you. Because I know that you're not that oblivious. **

**I miss you do much. You have no idea what I'd do to see you again. I don't even care if you're mad at me or hate me because I just miss you so much. I would hope that you miss me too. But I understand if you don't, considering I was a jerk and left in the first place. **

**You have no idea how happy I would be if you wrote to me. Even if it's to say that you hate me for leaving. I just need to see your handwriting on the page and to know you'll be waiting for me when I come home. It really would make my day. You only wrote to me once and I just keep reading that letter over and over, searching for any hint of anger but I can find none. **

**So I was thinking about what I had put in a letter that would make you ignore me. And I suppose the second letter I sent was inappropriate? Please, I'm sorry. You can just completely ignore it if you'd like and I promise to never mention it again. I won't deny it, but I'll never bring it up again if you wish. **

**I hope my letters to you aren't being censored too…**

_At this point, the ink faded a bit and then continued with a bright red color. _

**Don't freak out, but I ran out of ink and couldn't find a pencil so I plucked a feather from one of the carrier pigeons and I'm using blood (from a paper cut. I'm not dying, Sammy) to finish this letter. I really hope you write to me. **

**And even if you don't, I'll keep writing. I promised you that and I'll be sure to keep this promise since I broke my other one. Which I'm so sorry about. I had every intention of staying with you. But then my dad died and I felt like I needed to avenge him. I hope you can forgive me for this. Because I know I can never forgive myself. You just looked so hurt when I told you I was leaving. I didn't mean to do that. I didn't think you'd take it so badly. I just want to hold you right now because I-**

_He smudged the last part of the unfinished sentence as best as he could, which didn't turn out very well anyway. _

**I'm sorry. I promised not to mention it again. I just care about you, Sammy. A lot. I hope I can have a hug from you if I come back. **

**-Casey**

Maybe it was a bad idea to read it. Hearing him apologize over and over in his genuinely sincere and sweet and loving way makes me feel guilty for being upset at him. But I can't be upset with him. I can barely be ticked off at him.

_Because he's perfect._

How is this even possible?

Why is being so perfect _legal? _

And what did he say in his second letter that could make me mad at him?

Of course Tammy knows.

Tammy probably knew those letters were meant for me the whole time. Seriously, in what alternate universe could Tammy mistake Casey writing to her when he barely spoke a word to her? Some of the words are a bit smudged, as if he sent the letter out as soon as he wrote it. It also looks as if there's gunpowder all over the page.

This letter is like having a little piece of Casey here with me.

And Tammy has the other pieces.

I stalked off to her room on the bottom floor, which she hated since it didn't have a view.

Really? A view? Those are your priorities?

I barged into the room to find Danny and Tammy entangled in the sheets, _doing stuff._

She shrieked, "Keyes! Get out! We're busy!"

"I can see that," I retorted. "I came to get the rest of my letters."

"They're on my vanity. Take them and _leave!_"

Danny shushed her, "Hold on, you can join us if you want. Casey doesn't have to know."

Tammy slapped him and then pulled him closer to her.

Ew.

"Can you two at least have the decency to _wait until I have vacated the room?" _

"The offer still stands."

Me and Tammy shout at the same time, "_Shut up!" _

I slam the door behind me and I'm tempted to tell Mrs. McKenze that they were violating one of the rules of the house _and each other._

Just ew.

If I can't do it with Casey, they can't do it with each other.

*cough* No one can read my mind shut up go away.

The letters are tied up with a large rubber band in a huge bundle.

He kept his promise.

I nearly trip on the ladder to my room and trip over my feet on the way to my bed. Okay, so maybe I'm not the most patient person. Shut up. Don't judge.

I pry the first letter of the pack out from the rubber band and open it. Casey's handwriting greets me and granted, it isn't as nice as having him here with me, but at least I have something.

**-Sammy,**

**You're mad. Please don't hate me? You have no idea how much I care about you. I know you don't like all these emotions and whatnot, but I figured rejection wouldn't sting so badly overseas. I care about you so much.**

**You could say that I love you.**

**I love you a lot.**

**And this is really hard to express.**

**But only because my friend is reading this from over my shoulder and I feel very awkward about showing weakness in front of this asshole. He keeps asking if you're pretty and I'm afraid to tell him the truth because I don't want him to come home with me and steal you for himself. **

**I'm not allowed to write you classified information or anything so I'm sorry if I can't tell you anything or if any part of my letter is censored. But I'll come home soon and I can tell you everything and I can hold you. **

**If you want, I mean.**

**If you care about me the way that I care for you.**

**Maybe you don't and that's fine. You can tell me. I won't go off and tackle bombs, I promise. **

**-Casey**

This is going to be a fun letter to write.

**A/N: I don't even know what I'm doing anymore, I'm so sorry *sobs* I FEEL LIKE NOTHING EVEN HAPPENED IN THIS CHAPTER BUT I FELT BAD THAT THIS STORY WAS BASICALLY DEAD JUST LIKE HITLER AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA okay bad joke.**

**I was working on this all week and it still came out bad. I'll do better next time, masters, I promise you. It's just that my sister made me have a mental breakdown in a pharmacy this week and I can never go back there now and then after that mental breakdown, I went to another store and my sister made me have a panic attack so you could say I hate my sister like HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME UGHHH.**

**I'LL TRY TO GET SOMETHING DONE ON SATURDAY BECAUSE I FEEL BAD ABOUT THIS CHAPTER which I am too lazy to proofread right now.**

**Guys guys guys okay so here's a riddle.**

**WHAT IS THE OPPISITE OF JOHN LOCKE?**

**This was a question on my global final and my friend was testing me on this right before the test and I was like "what kind of question is this dude who cares?" And normally, I love global and politics and economics and everything but this year I had a shit teacher who I wanted to mutilate so I fell asleep a lot. SO I DIDN'T KNOW THE ANSWER TO THE QUESTION SO I PULLED AN ANSWER OUT OF MY ASS.**

**JOHANNA LOCKE.**

**DO YOU GUYS GET IT?**

**DO YOU GET MY PATHETIC ATTEMPT AT HUMOR?**

**The actual answer was Thomas Hobbes apparently but dude seriously WHO IS GOING TO USE THIS IN REAL LIFE**

**If you love me enough to review, please accompany it with a number between 4 and 60.**


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